Blizzard
by Britedark
Summary: First year post-manga. A blizzard hits the village. How will it affect Inuyasha and Kagome? #3: The youkai have been vanquished. So, why are the villagers panicking?
1. Reluctant Hero

**_**Disclaimer:**_**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

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><p><strong>Snowbound<strong>

He didn't want to get up. He was entirely comfortable and warm, wrapped around Kagome. But, while he could live with the definite taint of stuffiness and smokiness in the air, it didn't take a mental giant to figure that bad air wasn't good for his beloved.

Swallowing a sigh, Inuyasha carefully wriggled out from the covers, not wanting to wake Kagome. Pulling on his clothes, he walked silently over to the firepit. With a length of bamboo, he began poking at the smoke hole. Snow showered down as he carefully worked the stick to avoid the covering over the hole. Cold, fresh air began to sink into the room. With a nod of satisfaction, Inuyasha returned the pole to its place, then slid the exterior shoji just enough to peek outside.

The world was white and gray. Snow piled high, and it was still drifting down. He smirked, happily anticipating the day. Kagome wasn't going to want to go anywhere in all this snow. She would be all his—

She was awake when he slid back under the covers. "What were you doing?" she asked with a yawn.

"Clearing the smoke hole," he said, nuzzling her neck and reaching for a breast. "We're snowbound," he added.

Kagome tensed, to his surprise. "How much?"

"Knee deep, maybe," he mumbled, his fingers busy. "Still snowing. Wind's down."

She pulled away, rolling over to face him. "Shouldn't you be checking on the village?"

"Hunh?"

"Heavy snow can collapse buildings," Kagome pointed out.

"But…"

"At least check on Kaede and Rin? And Miroku?"

He gave her a whine, ears lowered. He didn't want to go out in the cold and damp. He wanted to stay right here.

She smirked, and then kissed his nose. "I'll make it worth your while."

He heaved a sigh. Did he have to?

"Please?"

He gave her an even sadder look, before crawling out of bed, snagging the fire-rat laying on top of the covers. Kagome watched him leave, smiling, before searching for her own clothes. Time to get up and prepare a breakfast fit for a hero.

Even a reluctant one.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oops. This piece was actually written nearly a year ago, for the prompt "Snowbound", but managed to avoid getting up here to . Sorry 'bout that. Good news is, this piece has a sequel, which is how I realized it was missing. Keeping reading... (first post November 28, 2010. Took first place for the contest at the "At First Tweak" community.) (11/23/2010)


	2. Possessed

**_**Disclaimer:**_**_ This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied. _

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><p><strong>Possessed<strong>

"Wanna go out!"

"Wanna play inna snow!"

"Wanna go out, please, papa?"

"Please, please, please?"

It was still not yet mid-morning, and Miroku was already tired of telling the twin girls 'no.' Sango gave him amused glances from time to time, as his voice became more exasperated, but while she gave occasional suggestions, she was mostly preoccupied with a colicky, fussy baby. It was up to him to take care of the lively girls, and he was quickly learning how much he didn't know about keeping the twins quiet, when they wanted to do something they couldn't. It was quite wearying, and the young father was almost tempted to find an excuse to go outside. If only the snow weren't so deep; if only it weren't still snowing.

The brush of youki and a solid thump on the porch was a welcome distraction. "Come on in, Inuyasha!" he shouted. "What are you doing out in this weather?"

"Inu!" "Inu!" He barely managed to grab the girls' collars before they could race to the shoji. The door slid aside barely enough to allow Inuyasha to squeeze through. Snow followed, a swirl in the air, and dropping off from the hanyo's bare feet and red hakama. The girls' shrill voices doubled in volume as they attempted to wriggle free. When Inuyasha dropped to one knee and held out his hands, Miroku released them. But, his grin died aborning as he noticed Inuyasha's grim expression.

"I need your help, Miroku," said the hanyo, ignoring the little girls' chatter.

"You've got it; of course," was the instant reply, as Miroku stood up. "What's the problem?" he asked over his shoulder, as he headed towards the cabinet holding his arcane supplies.

"It's Kenshin and his family," said Inuyasha, shaking his head at pleas for a ride. "Sorry, kiddos, not now. Mia and her family are in danger, and your dad, and I have to go help them out."

"We can help!" "Wanna help!"

"If you want to help, then stay here and do what you mama tells you." Inuyasha pulled the girls off and set the down in front of him. "No, listen to me," he said, cutting off their protests, and putting a clawed finger under each chin. "This is like one of your papa's and my trips, except it's inside the village. You can't go with us. Stay here, help your mama take care of your baby brother."

"Ooooh!" Doubled.

"And no whining." Miroku turned back from picking up a stack of ofuda in time to see Inuyasha give the twins a fierce glare, followed by a hair tousling that left their hair thoroughly mussed. Sango, finishing re-swaddling the baby, called the pouting girls to her at that point.

"So what is the problem?" asked Miroku, reaching for his straw cape.

"Not sure." Inuyasha lowered his voice as he walked over to join Miroku. "Got to their hut, saw that their front wall is leaning, looking ready to collapse, and then I felt the jyaki. But, no smell of fear, or any sign anyone's tried to get out…no smoke, either."

Foreboding took Miroku, and he moved faster. "Dead, or possessed?" he wondered in a whisper, tying on his straw hat, and reaching for his precious—and expensive—leather boots. "You fetching Kagome?"

"Not for this."

Miroku flicked a glance at Inuyasha's face, gauging his tension by the flatness of his ears, and saw enough to not even bother to ask why. Grabbing his staff, he slipped out the door behind Inuyasha, and was unsurprised to find the hanyo presenting his back to him. He'd already gotten a good look at the heavy snowfall earlier, and knew the only way to make speed was riding piggy-back. However, the youkai had slipped through the warding around the village, it or they had to be taken care of, now.

He prayed that it wasn't already too late for the family.

… … …

Kagome huddled within her blanket, sitting by the fire pit and its low fire. Her own breakfast had long since been consumed, though she had resisted for some time. She had thought of rebuilding the fire, but that would require using more of the shrinking store of dried wood inside the hut. There was more outside, but it was on the leeward side of the house, and she didn't want an argument with Inuyasha, if she labored to dig out enough snow to get to it.

She sighed, at once bored, and worried. This was, she realized, truly the first time she'd been totally alone since her return, and there was little in the hut to do. It was too cold for her taste, to do any needlework, or other fine handiwork: there was no need to prepare any food, given the generous portion left on the side of the fire. She sighed again, for the only thing she could think to do was to meditate. She was getting better at it, with all the coaching Kaede and Miroku were giving her, but there were so many other things she'd rather be doing. Like keeping warm in bed with a certain hanyo.

Still, mediation had definite advantages, in spending time and losing her boredom. And if she tranced down just right, she might be able to detect her husband's aura, and figure out just where he was. It was certainly worth the effort...

... ... ...

Miroku could see, even through the snow, and the wind that was picking up again, that the wall of the hut was leaning dangerously: he was astonished it had not already collapsed. And Inuyasha was, as expected, correct—he could clearly sense the youki twining around the timbers.

"Youki's holding it up," he muttered, just loud enough for inu hanyo ears, as he slid off Inuyasha's back. He didn't bother extending his senses to search for the weak spot in the wardings—that was for later. "How you want to do this?"

"Holding it up?"

"The hut, yes."

Inuyasha muttered a whispered expletive. "Probably try to bring it down as soon as we go in."

"Depends on what it's after."

He saw Inuyasha unsheathe Tessaiga. "The granary gambit?"

Inuyasha nodded at the reference to the granary roof he'd blown off the previous fall, as Miroku felt another trickle of chill down his spine. Another catastrophe in the village, the second in a year, since Kagome's return…

"Stay outside and low, Miroku—don't want to hit you."

"Right." Miroku hid his grimace, and stepped back, crouching as he pulled the first stack of ofuda from the inner pocket. Reaching for the power he'd been invoking within himself, he concentrated a moment, to be ready to either throw the ofuda or erect a barrier, or both.

"Go."

… … …

Slamming the enlarged Tessaiga back to rest on his shoulder, Inuyasha leaped forward with a wordless yell. His left hand ripped the layers of bamboo and woven straw away from the entrance. His eyes took in the rigid postures of the five people sitting around the fire-pit, saw the inhuman shine in their eyes, even as he started his twisting turn and brought his left hand to join his right. The winds already twisting around the blade blazed outward as he swept Tessaiga through a nearly complete circle at head height, angling upward.

The hut blew apart, the walls—even the leaning front—falling outward, and the roof shattering into pieces. Inuyasha touched down on the far side of the floor, sheathed his blade in the continuation of the swing, and let momentum continue his turn. Some of the pieces of roof that were going up, were going to come right back down, and his attention moved to the two younger children, conveniently sitting next to each other. Digging his toes in, he jumped again, grabbed their shoulders, and flung them through the still-disintegrating doorframe towards the waiting Miroku.

Something, someone, landed on his back. He reached towards the final child, focused on getting the children to safety first.

A normal steel blade, wielded by a normal human hand, would not be able to get through his firerat robe.

A steel knife wreathed in youki and wielded by a youkai-possessed woman was an entirely different matter.

Inuyasha staggered, and crashed to one knee, as the knife sank deep, seeking his heart. Pain, a flash of fear, followed by a pulse of his youkai blood rousing to danger. Tessaiga pulsed, strengthening the seal on his blood. Inuyasha threw himself back to his feet, staggering. Youki seared into the wound, and with it, a personality.

It laughed, glittering with glee, pushing. _Mine!_ It—they—crowed. He felt its bloodlust, reaching to his own, scrabbling at the seal. _They knew him_, he read in that instance. A trap, set just for him, take him over, free his bloodlust, feed on the blood, and death his youkai side would unleash.

_Never!_ he snarled at them. The youkai were nothing compared to Magatsuhi. The shock of the wound might have weakened him, but not enough. Not with Tessaiga at his side, adding its strength.

Then, he felt that comforting touch sliding away, saw through a mist the oldest child backing away with Tessaiga in hand. Saw Kenshin charging Miroku with a spear, saw the two smaller children limp in the snow, saw Miroku bring up his staff to block, only to be bowled over.

No! But, any half-thought to go to his friend's rescue broke as the knife pulled out, and with youkai speed, plunged down again. Inuyasha gasped, staggered, and the laughter in his head grew. _Hanyo!_ it/they howled. _Ours! We hid, we watched, we learned! You will feed us! Feed us power, feed us blood, feed us death!_

He snarled, fighting to stay upright, as the knife drove in a third time. You are nothing! he snarled back at the invading youkai. _Magatsuhi couldn't hold me, the jewel couldn't hold me; you are nothing!_ Gritting his teeth, he set himself to resist their push, resisting their effort to reach for his untamed blood. Nothing!

Something sank, searing, into his gut. Inuyasha reacted, lashing out, barely retaining enough control to only use his claws to grab the boy's clothes and throw him away. Off balance, he went to a knee again, then stubbornly flung himself back up. He reached for the woman on his back, but the knife ripped through his upper arm, slicing through muscles, sending the arm limp. _Oh, no, you don't,_ they crooned. _You don't want us to kill the human_, as he thought to fling himself down and try to knock the woman out. Inuyasha froze. _Be a good little hanyo, and give into us,_ they whispered. _You want to give in. It hurts. It'll hurt more, and more, until it's too much for your blood. We will have it. Oh, yes, such rich blood, so rich, so powerful, ours, ours, you are ours!_

Never!

… … …

Earth slumbered, and any snow imps that might have been frolicking in the storm had faded away, replete. Kagome descended into trance, sinking into coolness, remoteness, and her inner eyes sharpened. She felt the lines of the warding spells first, and observed, with remote dispassion, that one small area was bent and broken. She noted that, and felt around. A somnolent earth made the other energies stand out. Most of the villagers were barely perceptible even on this level. She found Kaede's aura, faint but clear, and started to search for the auras that would mark Miroku and Inuyasha.

Pain, fear, and refusal to give in pulsed and rippled across the plain of her awareness. Inuyasha! Shock and horror shattered her trance: Kagome gasped, staggering to her feet. She had to go to him! Without thinking, Kagome dropped the blanket and ran across the room, only to slam to a halt as she flung the shoji wide and was confronted with impossibility of the deep drifts of snow. There was no way, no way, she could get to Inuyasha's side in time.

But he needed her. Kagome whipped around, her eyes searching the hut, desperate for any ideas. It had only been a touch, before she had lost control, but she knew her hanyo, knew that he was hurt and desperate, and under attack by youkai. How and why, she didn't know, but there had to be a way!

Her eyes lighted on the white bow leaning against the wall. The bow she had used in the final battle: the bow that had disappeared with Inuyasha when the well sealed. The bow that had waited at the bottom of the well for three years, though she hadn't noticed it when she returned, only when Inuyasha had shown it to her days later. A flicker of memory—Hitome's lesson—flickered through her mind, and a desperate hope blossomed. Could she? She had meditated with the bow, practiced with the bow, but never used the bow. How could she possibly make an impossible shot, through solid walls and unknown distance?

She had to try!

Kagome grabbed the bow and snatched an arrow from the quiver, backing up to give herself room. Laying the arrow across the bow, but not yet drawing, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply, seeking calmness, seeking the center. She felt the bow warming in her hand. Calm, center, see beyond the physical, see to the real target.

She felt his pain. She felt the pulsing of his youkai blood, clawing against his stubborn will. She felt, then she 'saw', the swarm of youkai, burrowing through his flesh, whispering to mind, sliding around his soul, trying to smother it. She felt his fighting, yearned to reach for him. But, no. She must not concentrate on him; he was not her target. The youkai were her target. Only they must be at her focus, must be where she willed the arrow to go. The sacred arrow needs not fly through air, penetrate wooden walls and intervening trees. It would go where she willed, be at the mark she determined.

She had not hit Hitome.

She would not hit Inuyasha.

Calmly, calmly, she drew back, unbreathing, unmoving, waiting for the perfect moment. The bow was in her heart; the bow and her were one—

Release.

… … …

He resisted, fighting because giving in had never been an option. _They_ grew more strongly with each cut, with each drop of blood, feeding on his body's pain, but he would not give them what they wanted. Tessaiga rested beyond his reach, his blood shimmered and clawed, wanting release, but, no! He would not give in! He-would-not!

Something cold and white hissed through him, from back to front. The yammering voices shrieked and vanished in a single moment.

The weight on his back slid off. Blinking, Inuyasha swayed, as the silence in his mind allowed him to pay attention to his senses. Some lengths away, an arrow, blazing with miko energy, radiated pinkly against the heap of splintered wood and snow. Inuyasha felt himself drop to his knees, but a grin started to spread his blood-flecked lips. "Thanks, Kagome," he whispered.

Kami, how he loved that woman.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> This piece was written for the prompt "Cabin Fever", for the Inuyasha FanFiction Contest community on LiveJournal. It was originally posted on September 13, 2011. It won first place.


	3. Illusion

_**Disclaimer:** This story is based on "Inuyasha," copyrighted by Rumiko Takahashi. No infringement of copyright intended or implied._

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><p><strong>Illusion<strong>

Kagome lowered the bow, opening her eyes, smiling a little with inner satisfaction. The youkai had vanished, purified by her arrow. Inuyasha would be safe, now.

But, he was hurt, she reflected a moment later, her smile vanishing. She eyed the hut's entrance. Inuyasha should be making his way back to her, if he were able to move at all. Obviously, her next step should be to pull out her medical supplies. She should also put on water to heat.

The young woman turned to do that, and then hesitated. What if villagers had been hurt? She had sent her hanyo out specifically to check on the village: the youkai presumably had gone after some of the villagers, not lay in wait for Inuyasha.

Changing her plans, Kagome moved quickly. She already had an 'emergency' basket prepared, and she had dressed in several layers earlier that morning in anticipation that Inuyasha might discover a hut broken by the heavy snowfall, and people needing attention. The straw cape and hat were close at hand; she set the bow, quiver and basket at the edge of the floor and sat down to pull on her fur-lined boots. She didn't know what Inuyasha had paid for the specially-commissioned boots from a cobbler in a large town, but Sango had told her how much Miroku's set had cost: enough to make her wince. Reason number ninety-nine and something why she loved her hanyo.

Stepping outside, Kagome halted, freshly daunted at the sight of all that snow. She was fairly certain that Inuyasha was somewhere on the southwest side of the village, near the river. It was a fair trek, even in good weather. In heavy snow …

Thinning her lips, Kagome proceeded off the porch and into the untrammeled snow. Watching carefully, she found the turn and the path that would take her to Sango and Miroku's residence. It was not the direct path to where she needed to go. But, Shippo was still living on the far side of the large house, in the room he had shared with Inuyasha before the hanyo had built the hut after her return. He had been present at the dinner which the two families had shared the night before the storm, so it was probable he was still around. His ability to fly would greatly shorten her trip. And she could also pick up Miroku, if Inuyasha hadn't already enlisted his aid.

She ploughed through the snow, already starting to pant. Kagome fixed her mind on her destination, refusing the fret about the time this was already taking.

Inuyasha was not going to die on her.

… … …

Inuyasha stayed on knees and one hand for some time, doing little more than revelling in the delightful thoughts about his beautiful, powerful woman who had just saved his life. Then, with a groan, he forced himself to his feet. Ignoring the cold breeze exploring the rents in his clothing, and the dripping of his blood onto the floor of the demolished hut, the hanyo looked around, looking to see whether danger still lingered; and—not incidentally—to locate Tessaiga.

All three of the kids were starting to stir. Keshin and Miroku were both out cold. "Some help you were, monk," Inuyasha grumbled to himself, though he took due note of the hint of Miroku's blood. From what he could see, Miroku had hit his head when Keshin overbore him. The possessed farmer had apparently been doing his best to throttle the monk when Kagome's arrow had destroyed the youkai.

He finally spotted Tessaiga, almost hidden under the boy. Relieved, he stepped off the floor and walked over to the boy. Grimacing, he pushed the boy onto his side, then reached for the sheathed blade.

"Ow!"

Startled more than hurt, Inuyasha snatched his hand back. Shaking it, he glared at the wooden scabbard which had stung him. Growling under his breath, he snatched at it again, ignored the stinging sensation, and slid it through his sash. Releasing it, he eyed the scabbard warily, but the stinging sensation disappeared when he let go, and the scabbard seemed quiescent, resting against the fire-rat material.

The boy groaned and struggled to sit up. "Eh, Taro-kun," said Inuyasha, leaning over and extending his hand. "Let's get you and your sisters out of the snow and into someplace warm."

Blinking, the boy looked at the clawed, blood-stained hand, and flinched. His eyes moved upward, landed on Inuyasha's face. He screamed.

"Mononoke!" He scrabbled backwards. "Get away from me!"

Inuyasha straightened, eyes widening. "Hey, Taro, it's I, Inuyasha. I'm not going to hurt you."

Taro scrambled to his feet, continuing to back away. "Get away from me!"

"Taro—"

"Oy, Inuyasha-sama!" The shout came from behind him, from a nearby hut. "What's going on, and what happened to Keshin's hut?"

Inuyasha recognized the voice with a sense of relief. Yugi was an unflappable, good-natured farmer who was one of the few people comfortable enough in his presence to joke with him. "Youkai somehow got past the wards, and possessed Keshin and his family," he called back, turning. "The youkai are dead, but, uh—"

He paused as he saw the man and his oldest son stiffening, and dropping their loosely-held spears into two-handed grips, with the spearheads pointed directly at him.

"Yugi-san?"

"You're not Inuyasha!" Yugi's voice was taut with fear and anger. "Mononoke!"

"Wh-what are you talking about?" asked Inuyasha, starting to feel the resurgence on a long-time, deeply held fear. "I am Inuyasha!"

Behind him, someone else started screaming. Turning around, he saw Keshin's wife staring at her bloody hands. "Blood!" she shrieked. "Why am I covered in blood!" Her head raised, she peered out past her nonexistent walls, and her voice raised in higher panic. "My hut! My hut! What happened to my hut!" She scrambled to her feet, and then saw Inuyasha. "Mononoke!" She whirled and fled out past what would have been the back wall.

Instinct made Inuyasha take a step towards the fleeing woman floundering through the wood-chip decorated snow drifts. He reached out after her. "I'm not—"

"Don't you dare attack Mari!"

He turned once again at the new yell, thoughts slowing in a churn of utter confusion and fear. Patched with snow, eyes wild with hate, and fear, Keshin charged, spear in hand. Like every other spear, over the last few years, its shaft had been wrapped in ofuda; a practical gift from Miroku to his adoptive village. Dazed, Inuyasha didn't move.

It struck just above the deep gash which the boy had inflicted on him while possessed. With a guttural cry, Inuyasha crashed to his knees. Agony ripped through him as the purification energy tore at his youki. Thinking was devoured by pain. Instincts and the engrained habits of a long childhood took over. Gripping the shaft, Inuyasha tore himself free. He staggered to his feet, gasping, and jumped as hard as he could, the little boy fleeing another human village which had rejected him.

… … …

Shippo came through the shoji separating the two sections of the house yawning, after Sango yelled for him, but he woke up abruptly when he saw Sango's guest. "Kagome!" he exclaimed with a grin. "How come you're not still under the covers with Inuyasha?" He jumped as the twins ran towards him, lofting easily above their heads, and landing lightly before Kagome.

"Inuyasha went out to check the village, and found youkai," Kagome said shortly, making no effort to hide her concern. "He's hurt. I need you to get me to the other side of the village, quickly."

"Miroku's with him, or should be," Sango added, jiggling her fussy son. "Kagome says she could feel Inuyasha's pain, but she can't tell anything about any humans."

"Right." Shippo dodged the twins' second effort to catch him, scrambling up to Kagome's unburdened shoulder. "Sorry, kids, I gotta go with Kagome to check out the dog-boy. I'll play with you later, okay? Let's go, quick," he added under his breath, into Kagome's ear. "Before they try to latch onto you."

Kagome flicked her gaze to Sango who nodded and called the twins to her. Turning on her heel, she went back outside. Shippo dropped down from her shoulder and transformed into his pink form. "Thanks, Shippo," she said, crawling onto him, carefully juggling bow and basket. "I really appreciate this."

"Keh! Anything for you, Kagome!" he responded. He lifted off gently, giving her time to find her balance. "But, how did youkai get into the village? I mean, those wards you and Miroku set up don't let me through, without Miroku's pass-stick."

"There's a break—one of us will have to go patch it later," she said, already trying not to shiver from the breeze cooling her exertion-flushed face. "Go towards the southwest, near the river: that's where I felt the attack."

"You felt it all the way from your hut? Wow!" he exclaimed.

"I guess my training is paying off," she admitted, trying to angle her head so that the hat bore the brunt of the wind from its top. "Go faster?"

"Right." She felt him increasing speed, but gradually, so her grip did not slide. Eyes narrowed to slits, chin tucked in, most of her vision obscured by the hat, Kagome concentrating on her balance and holding on. In very little time, Shippo was descending.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. "One of the huts is blown apart! And there's Miroku—uh, oh, looks as if he's hurt."

Kagome bit her lip. "What about Inuyasha?"

"Don't see him—but, there's blood. Lots of blood."

Her heart clenched. "Get us down, fast!"

She felt him start to do so. Then, he yelped and jerked sideways. "Oy, Yugi-san, Keshin-san! It's me, Shippo! I have Kagome with me!"

"Prove it, youkai!" Came the yell.

What was going on? "I'm not a youkai—I'm Kagome!" she shouted. "Let us down, and I'll prove it!"

Shippo shivered beneath her hand, then began to drift down. He shrank as he went, then popped back into his normal form when her legs were barely a few feet above the ground. She landed in the snow, wobbled a bit, and then recovered. "Stay back, Shippo," she said, pulling her hat off and throwing it down. Bringing up the bow in before her, Kagome concentrated. The bow blaze up from her miko power, bright against the gray clouds.

The men—and more than just Yugi and Keshin—shrank back from her display. "You still doubt me?" she asked fiercely. "Perhaps one of you would like to wade through the snow to Kaede's, and bring her back, to vouch for me?"

They wilted, to a man, shrinking away from her glare. "Never heard of a youkai could make a bow glow pink," allowed Yugi. "But, please, miko-sama, don't be angry. First, I knew anything was wrong, was some weird sound, and then stuff slamming against my hut. I and my boy grabbed our capes and spears, but weren't sure we should try to come out; 'til we heard young Taro screaming. We saw someone dressed all in red, and thought it was Inuyasha-sama, but when he turned around, he—it—it wasn't him. I swear—it wasn't him!"

Kagome clamped down on the desire to shout in outrage, or frustration. Something was very wrong here: her hanyo was missing, and these people were imagining things. She wanted to track down her husband, but she couldn't just leave things here. Especially not Miroku.

"I'm going to check Miroku," she said, silently irritated that it didn't appear that anyone had yet looked at him. "Someone go get a blanket so you can carry him to a hut. Shippo, you look around and see whether you can figure out what happened. The rest of you ..." she swept her gaze around the men, and glared, "... can wait."

... ... ...

Inuyasha roused, and found himself in the branches of Goshinboku. He started to straighten, and let out a cry as pain exploded through his midsection. Alternately gasping and clenching his teeth, Inuyasha gingerly touched himself, and then looked at his blood-covered hand. He shivered, feeling deeply cold. It shouldn't hurt this much, he thought. It hurt almost as much as that time Sesshomaru had stuck his hand through him. But, that wasn't this—what had happened? Breathing shallowly, trying not to feel dizzy, Inuyasha tried to piece together memories of how he'd come to be in the tree. He'd been … fighting. Yeah. Fighting. Youkai had possessed Kenshin's family, and had tried to possess him. That gibbering, taunting laughter, inside his mind. But, that wasn't why he was here: he abruptly remembered the laughter fading, remembered seeing Kagome's glowing arrow. He'd been hurt, but not this bad. What had happened next?

He remembered leaning over Taro, and the boy screaming "Mononoke!" The boy hadn't recognized him, he realized. Nor had Yugi. Or Mari. An image flickered through his mind, Kenshin charging him, spear in hand, madness in his eyes. He remembered the abrupt, searing pain, and mentally swore the ripest epithets he'd been trying to rid himself of for four years.

Miroku's ofuda, on the spears. No wonder he hurt so much! Ordinary iron or steel weapons weren't much to a threat to him, especially if his fire rat robe were intact. But, a blade magicked with Miroku's considerable power …

He supposed he should be glad the blade hadn't been filled with Kagome's power.

Swiping at the icy sweat beading his forehead, Inuyasha looked down. He remembered now: he'd panicked when he'd been hurt that last time; when everyone started threatening him with spears. Panic made sense, in a way—he was glad he hadn't lashed out at the men he'd known for over three years. Especially with Kagome back and living with him.

But, why couldn't his panic have simply sent him running for his hut? Why had his panic turned him into his kid self who didn't know how to cope with angry humans, except by running away?

Baka hanyo, he thought glumly, measuring the distance between him and the ground. The thought of trying to jump down in this state was unbearable. Not that climbing down was going to be much easier. He moved his right arm. It hurt, still, but he could move it.

Best chance it while he was still reasonably clear-headed, he decided, feeling the blood still spilling down his belly. If he were lucky, Kagome would have stayed home and not gone looking for him. The hut wasn't that far away. He'd get back, and Kagome would be there, prepared to cosset him and take care of him, and he'd be so happy to let her, he wouldn't argue with her at all. Not one word.

Still, he had to force himself to move. His belly howled with pain, and his head tried to swim with dizziness and nausea. Gritting his teeth, he set all four sets of claws into the bark of the tree. Slowly, he started crawling down the tree, moving one limb at a time, concentrating on making sure his claws were firmly set before moving the next one. Sweat trickled into his eyes, he felt constantly on the verge of retching, and he would not have agreed that Sesshomaru's hand had hurt worse than this.

Part of him wanted to swear at Miroku for creating such a dangerous weapon. But, he didn't want to use rage and anger to motivate him. He concentrated on Kagome: on her beautiful face, with the smile meant just for him. On her open arms, welcoming him. She was Kagome. She loved him. She had given up everything for him: family, and easy, luxurious life. He wasn't going to let some stupid trick of confusion, of illusion; he wasn't going to let his pure, stupid, human fear bring him down. For Kagome. Nothing could stop him: had ever stopped him, from being with her, protecting her.

He would get back.

… … …

Miroku had a nasty cut and lump on the back of his head: Kagome felt the rough edge of wood underneath his head as she examined him, and realized he had fallen against the edge of the hut's woodpile. She examined his eyes, and his skull, finding no apparent breaks. Nasty bruises were rising on his neck, showing the clear impressions of fingers, which no one could explain. His breathing sounded normal, and there was no hint of blueness in his pale lips, so she concluded that whoever had tried to strangle him hadn't managed to injure his windpipe.

Standing up, Kagome nodded to the men to ease Miroku onto a blanket, cautioning them to be careful with his head. As she watched, she felt Shippo scramble up onto her shoulder.

"Kagome," he whispered. "The blood—it's Inuyasha's. I can smell it. There's other smells of youkai, but it's faint, and doesn't smell anything like a youkai of Inuyasha's size."

The worry she'd been forcing to the back of her mind roared up. She knew—somehow, even without trancing down again—she knew Inuyasha was hurt—badly. Mentally kicking herself for not thinking of it earlier, she murmured, "Go find him. See whether he went back to the hut. If you can't find him, go see whether you can bring Kaede to take care of Miroku. Hurry!"

"But, um, will they let me go?" he whispered back.

Kagome looked over at the men not involved in carrying Miroku. Some eight or nine by now, had ventured out of their huts. They were all armed, and they all looked wary and frightened.

She drew a deep breath. Up until now, she had felt distinctly uncomfortable in any situation when she had to tell them something, despite Kaede's encouragement, and reminder of her status as both miko and the miko had, moreover, destroyed the Shikon no Tama. She knew that there was still uncertainty in their regard of her, between the automatic respect for her position as a miko, and the automatic dismay that she should associate herself with one of youkai blood.

But, there was no time, now, for uncertainty, or for any effort to appease their discomfort. Inuyasha's life might be at stake, and for Inuyasha, she would do—anything.

"Shippo is going to search for Inuyasha," she said firmly, giving the men a level stare. "He's confirmed that Inuyasha was here, and that's he's wounded. I don't know everything that's happened, but I do know there were other youkai here, and now they are gone. I am positive that it was Inuyasha Yugi saw bending over Taro, and whom Kenshin wounded. I do not know what trickery caused you to see him as a mononoke, but it was Inuyasha. We'll figure out why you mistook him later. Understand?"

To her relief, she saw most of them nod. "You're the miko, Kagome-sama," said Yugi, grounding his spear. "If you say there's no danger, we can wait."

"But, what about my hut?" wailed Kenshin. "It's gone!"

"I won't say there's no danger," Kagome answered, ignoring Kenshin. "There's a break in the wards: that's how the youkai got in. One of us will mend it as soon as we can, but finding Inuyasha comes first."

The nods were more reluctant, this time, but she ignored it. "Go, Shippo," she said, shrugging her shoulder as she turned her full attention back to Miroku. "Find Inuyasha."

Quickly, please! Her fear went unsaid.

… … …

It only felt like forever. Inuyasha's effort to concentrate on Kagome faded, as it took every bit of his dizzied, pain-drenched awareness to concentrate on his clawed extremities. One move at a time: pull free, move down, drive in. Pause, wait for nausea to recede. Repeat. Again. And again.

Finally, one foot went from cold to solid, horizontal ground. Opening his eyes, Inuyasha blearily struggled to see. Holding tight with his hands, he worked the other foot free and set it down. Yes. Definitely. He was on the ground.

Inuyasha pulled his hands free of the tree, intending to start walking towards the hut. But, as soon as he released the tree, his legs betrayed him. He crumpled, retching, curling up around his abused stomach. Blackness threatened. No! He was going to get back to the hut; he was going to get back to Kagome, if he had to crawl!

Youki pinged his senses. Inuyasha snarled, rousing, instincts firing, rage rising. No damn youkai was going to take him down, not now, not ever! Claws driving deep into the trunk, he pulled himself up, then turned and braced his back against Goshinboku. He forced youki into his claws, and dug into the bottomless fire that was his youkai half. He snarled, challenging. Let those who dared, take him on!

… … …

Miroku had roused briefly under her administration, nauseated and confused, muttering about the pain in his neck. She assured him as best she could, fed him willow-bark tea, and replaced the cold, wet pad of cloth on his forehead, as he started to slip back under. Closing her eyes, Kagome prayed that he would be only mildly concussed. She didn't want to think about a serious head injury, here in the feudal ages, with no x-ray machines, no scanners, and no real surgeries. Miroku was a friend, and she couldn't bear the thought of seeing him dead. She couldn't!

"Kagome! Kagome, Kagome! I found him! He's at Goshinboku, but he doesn't look like himself, but I could smell his blood, it's him, but he didn't know me! He attacked me, with his claws!"

Kagome slewed around as Shippo burst into the hut, shouting his news, paling as she absorbed his information. Inuyasha, not recognizing Shippo?

"Did he have Tessaiga on him, Shippo?" she asked. "Did you see Tessaiga?"

"Uh…" Shippo dropped to a seated position, unconsciously mimicking Inuyasha's preferred stance. "I … think so…"

"Go to him, child." Kaede stepped through the entrance, followed closely by Rin. "I'll take over, here."

Kagome scrambled to her feet, relieved beyond words.

"Don't forget the bow," added Kaede. "It's power may help you reach him."

The younger miko grabbed her weapon, but barely heard Kaede's words as she ran out the door. She flung herself onto Shippo as soon as he transformed. "Hurry, Shippo, hurry!" she begged the kitsune.

He did hurry, but it still felt like long minutes, before Shippo set down, short of the tree. "I don't dare move closer," he whispered. "This is almost where he attacked."

Kagome nodded. "Get back, then," she murmured.

"Be careful, Kagome."

"He won't hurt me."

But, as she took a step forward, peering through the gathering gloom, Kagome had to suppress a doubt? It did not look like Inuyasha. The clothes were red, but what her eyes saw were silver horns, instead of ears, a wild tangle of red, black, and white fur, instead of a cascade of white hair. His eyes appeared red, and his jaws were an elongated muzzle, with fangs longer than even youkai-Inuyasha's.

Closing her eyes, she tranced lightly, 'opening' her inner eye, and knew, with no uncertainty, that it was, indeed, her hanyo. But, not quite. She could feel his youkai blood simmering, barely held in check by the controlled power of Tessaiga. She could feel the power of both Tessaiga and the scabbard, but there was something different, something wrong, with the scabbard itself. An odd, a very odd, kind of jyaki wove around it. Was that the source of the illusion masking Inuyasha's features? Kagome thought about firing an arrow at the jyaki to destroy it, but decided against it. There was too much youki of different sorts, twining together. She didn't dare do anything that might damage Tessaiga or the scabbard. It wasn't a very strong jyaki: she could easily purify it, could she only get close enough.

Opening her eyes, Kagome took a slow step forward. A second. And stopped at the third, as he raised his head and snarled.

"Miko!" he snarled, his voice deeper than usual. "Don't come closer—I'll kill you!"

"It's Kagome," she called out to him, keeping her voice level and calm. "Inuyasha, listen to me. It's Kagome. I'm Kagome."

He snarled in response. Kagome fought to keep her spirits from falling. Couldn't he smell her, hear her? Why didn't he recognize her?

"I feel … your reiki," he said, panting. "Not … strong enough. I'll kill you … you try to kill me…"

Reiki. Kagome remembered Kaede's odd bit of advice, and other things she had said, during her training. The bow was not just any bow, but the one she had retrieved in her last, desperate effort to save Kikyo. It was the bow which had allowed her to save Hitome, which had allowed her to pierce the Shikon no Tama with an arrow without shattering it. The bow which was tied to her heart.

Inuyasha was not able to interpret either hearing or smell correctly: was that the spell on the scabbard? But, he recognized her as a miko.

Bringing the bow close to her chest, Kagome put both hands on it, and closed her eyes. She reached for her connection to the bow, and reached for her connection to Inuyasha. I love Inuyasha, she thought. Tell him. Show him. Inuyasha, you are safe. I am Kagome. I love you. Feel me. Feel my love, through the bow, through my reiki. Inuyasha, feel me. Feel me!

The bow shivered and glowed, but she didn't notice. She concentrated the only thing of importance to her: Inuyasha. You are mine, Inuyasha, and I am yours. Feel me, know me. Inuyasha, hear me!

"Warm." The guttural voice nearly broke her trance, but Kagome shook off the startlement, continuing her concentration on the bow.

"Feel … safe … love … who … Ka - go - me? Kagome?"

She felt the shift in his youki, even felt, at that moment, the faint whisper of reiki that was his human blood. "Kagome? Help … me…"

And, then, he fell.

… … …

He felt very warm, tired, and vaguely achy.

Inuyasha opened his eyes, and studied the ceiling. It was the ceiling of his hut, the hut he shared with Kagome. But, why did he feel so … odd?

Something shifted next to him. "Good morning, sleepyhead!" Kagome's face appeared above his, side-lit by a candle lamp. She smiled at him. "You've been asleep for a while."

He blinked at her, and tried to sit up. Kagome pounced and slammed his shoulders down. "No way. You're not getting up, until I say so."

Inuyasha thought about how he felt. "I'm … hurt?"

"You took one of Miroku's enhanced spears through the gut, and more knife wounds in your back than I wanted to count."

"I don't … remember," he admitted, after a moment of thought.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Give it a bit—you've been asleep for over a day. And you lost a _lot_of blood—your youki couldn't stop the bleeding." Her face became somber. "You had me worried, dog-boy."

Inuyasha looked more closely at her face, seeing the shadows under her eyes. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Not your fault," she said. "Either Miroku or I made a mistake in the wards; last time we renewed them. Kaede's the one who found the flaw that let the youkai break in."

"Youkai?" Inuyasha wished his memories would hurry up and reappear.

"Don't worry about it. They're gone." Kagome leaned down and kissed him. He returned the kiss, with interest, until an inadvertent move triggered a stab of pain.  
>She gave him a sympathetic look at his groan. "It's not healing as quick as usual. Don't worry about it—I'm taking very good care of you."<p>

"Feh. Foul-tasting teas and stinking lotions."

She smirked at him. "Don't worry. If you're a good boy, there'll be some treats to sweeten things up."

"Such as?"

"Oh, this." Kagome kissed him again, more firmly. He let her have her way, responding gently. His eyelids felt heavy, refusing to rise again. He felt more than heard her chuckle. "Go back to sleep, my hero," he heard her whisper.

He sighed and slid away, content in her presence and in her promise, unconcerned about lagging memory, and lax body.

With Kagome, he was safe and loved.

It was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This was originally posted to the LiveJournal community I-B-4-Y, for a Halloween challenge, "Tricks or Treats." It was originally posted on October 31st, 2011. It has been edited for grammatical and spelling errors. (01/08/2012).


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